


Kephallonia's Greatest Detective

by Dr_Hoffmans_Mechanic



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 04:20:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17800925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Hoffmans_Mechanic/pseuds/Dr_Hoffmans_Mechanic
Summary: Kassandra begins to think that she may have a stalker. Turns out she does, but it's not anyone she would ever have suspected.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fishbone76](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishbone76/gifts).



> This is to thank fishbone76 for their help and encouragement, and I'm kind of blaming them for this going from Carry On Up the Chiton to Grave Of The Fireflies in just a handful of chapters ;)

“Let me walk you home, Nephele,” Kassandra smiled a little drunkenly down at the young woman. “It’s very dark, and I hate to think of you out there unprotected.”

Nephele had arrived late in the evening to deliver a new chiton to Europa, who had thanked her by offering her some of the better wine and some small pastries.

Kassandra had gone to get the wine, and Nephele had stayed the whole evening.

“Are you offering to protect me?” she looked up, smiling coquettishly.

“With my life,” Kassandra grinned broadly, subtly flexing her shoulders.

“Well, when you put it like that,” Nephele ran her tongue slowly across her upper lip. “I would feel safer with a big, strong misthios.”

It turned out that Nephele lived with her father, quite close to Markos’s place.

“So close to where I grew up,” Kassandra smiled, leaning against a tree at the edge of the property, with what she hoped was impressive suavity. “How did I not know you were here all this time?”

“Perhaps because I haven’t been here all the time,” Nephele moved in close and ran a finger across the smooth leather of Kassandra’s breast plate. “We moved in quite recently.”

There was a rustle in the foliage above Kassandra’s head and she looked up briefly. It was too dark to see anything.

“Well that explains that,” she smiled, returning her attention to her companion. “I know I would have noticed you,” she ran a finger, lingeringly, down Nephele’s cheek.

“You flatter me, misthios,” Nephele breathed, leaning in a little. “I have certainly noticed you. I see you about the place every day, running errands for Markos, making your way to Selene’s.”

“Why have you never spoken, lovely?” Kassandra breathed in her ear, took in her scent. 

“You are an imposing presence, “Nephele bent her head to the side, inviting Kassandra’s lips. “I lacked the confidence.”

Kassandra snorted softly.

“A lovely woman like yourse...ow, what the fuck!” Something small and hard hit her on the head “I’m sorry, I apologise,” she turned to Nephele, then peered up into the branches.

“Is someone up there?” she shouted. “Show yourself.”

Silence. Kassandra strained her ears for breathing, movement, anything.

“If I have to come up there...” she warned.

The was a yowling mew by way of answer.

“Oh it’s Priapus!” Nephele exclaimed, sounding relieved.

Kassandra wasn’t relieved. She gave Nephele an alarmed look.

“Our cat,” Nephele clarified.

“You called your cat Priapus?” Kassandra raised an eyebrow.

“He’s very prolific,” Nephele shrugged.

Kassandra cast a final, wary glance upwards then reminded herself that she had more important matters to consider.

She turned back to Nephele, reached out, gently took her chin between finger and thumb.

“I would really like to kiss you,” she breathed.

“I would really like you to,” Nephele smiled, tilting her head invitingly.

Kassandra slipped her arms about her, gently eased her close and bent to meet her lips.

She kissed her gently at first, almost chastely, giving Nephele time to relax in her embrace before she teased against her lips with the tip of her tongue. She opened willingly for Kassandra, humming with pleasure as she licked softly into her mouth, pulling her closer.

Breaking the kiss some minutes later Kassandra growled softly in Nephele’s ear.

“Why don’t we go inside, you can tell me more about your...cat.”

“That would be lovely,” Nephele smiled, a little flushed. “But my pater would kill us both.”

“I’d like to see him try,” was right on the tip of Kassandra’s tongue. She stopped herself, just in time, and tried for something more seductive.

“Then, my place? It’s not very far. It’s not grand, but my bed is comfortable,” she smiled teasingly.

“Oh Kassandra,” Nephele laughed softly. “You are very hard to resist.”

Kassandra’s heart sank a little. In her experience, that was exactly what women said just as they _were _about to resist you.__

____

____

“This is all a little fast for me though,” Nephele was more serious now. “I don’t want to be just a one night conquest.”

Kassandra felt like sighing but controlled herself. 

It wasn’t an unreasonable objection after all. She knew that she was acquiring a bit of a reputation about the island. It wasn’t out of the question that Nephele had heard talk. 

Gods she was lovely though. 

And there was that damn cat in the tree again!

She would climb up there and wring its neck in a minute. “See how prolific he is then”, she thought.

“I understand,” she smiled gently. “Perhaps we could meet again? Do you stop work to eat at all during the day?”

Nephele did indeed break to eat in the afternoon, so Kassandra agreed to meet with her then.

“I will bring food, and something to drink,” she pressed Nephele’s palm to her lips, kissed it softly, with just a teasing hint of tongue.

“Till then,” Nephele smiled prettily before turning and sauntering off towards her house, hips swaying suggestively.

“Oh fuck...” Kassandra sighed, aroused and frustrated. A small branch fell, grazing her ear.

“I am warning you cat!” she hissed, not sure Nephele was out of earshot. “I swear by Artemis I will climb up there, skin you alive and make bracers out of your mangy pelt!”

There was a hiss by way of response. 

For a moment Kassandra seriously considered making good on her threat. In fact she had a hold of the trunk and a foot braced against it when she heard Nephele call “good night”.

“Ah, good night sweet..” she spun round quickly, lost her balance and tripped over an exposed root.

“Shit!” she muttered, scrabbling to her feet and waving at Nephele as she closed the door behind her.

Did that fucking cat just laugh?

She was too drunk to be climbing trees after cats she realised.


	2. Chapter 2

Kassandra awoke early the next morning, the sun in her eyes though a hole in the canopy. She should fix that, she thought wincing. She had a raging thirst, a little bit of a headache and the pleasant recollection that she had a date that afternoon.

“The lovely Nephele,” she smiled to herself. “Damn” she’d promised to take food as well, and she was pretty sure there wasn’t much about the place. She ate most of her meals at Selene’s and didn’t keep supplies beyond bread, an odd bit of cheese and a little wine at home.

If she remembered correctly she did have some cheese and the heel of a loaf downstairs though. That would provide her with breakfast at least because she was as hungry as she was thirsty, she realised.

Getting to her feet, scratching her ass absently, she was suddenly aware that she desperately needed to take a leak. The quickest way down was over the wall, so she scrabbled down, quickly checking for any onlookers as she made for cover.

Washing her hands at the pump she noticed that there was a cup on the floor nearby. She frowned thoughtfully. When had she left that there? Why had she left that there? How drunk was she last night? Not that drunk surely?

She filled a bucket and picking up the cup used it to drink greedily. Suitably watered she took the bucket inside and went to the small cupboard where she kept her basic supplies, only to find it empty.

“Shit...” she sighed, miserably. She’d obviously eaten the bread and cheese last night like an idiot. She stood looking hopefully at the empty shelves as if she could conjure a meal by sheer force of will.

Thinking about it she reasoned that she had enough time to go see Markos, scrounge some breakfast, collect some of the drachmae he owed her and still have time to rustle up food for her date.

Sniffing experimentally she decided that she also needed a wash, pretty badly. And if she remembered correctly, she had a sliver of soap in here somewhere...or not, as it turned out.

Gods’ teeth, it was just one fucking thing after another this morning, she slammed the cupboard door so soundly that a clay cup she had placed on top of it fell off and shattered at her feet.

“Malaka!” she was about to kick the table leg, but stopped herself, took a steadying breath.

All was well, she was just hungry, everything would slip back into perspective once she had eaten. 

She would leave cleaning up the shards till she got back, because the way things were going she would probably cut herself. 

And, honestly, she didn’t really want to bend over, her head was still a bit fragile.

As she walked over to Markos’ place she reflected that things weren’t so bad, she would wash at Selene’s, she had a change of clothes there, and a lovely woman was waiting on her company.

Markos was nowhere to be seen in the yard, but as she approached the smell of cooking made her mouth water and her stomach clench.

He was cooking eggs and turned as she entered.

“Kassandra!” he greeted her brightly enough, looking over his shoulder. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company so early in the morning? You want breakfast, no?” 

“I want breakfast yes,” Kassandra gave him a smile. “If that’s all right?”

“Of course it’s all right, there should be new eggs by now, go check and you can have those, the bread is a little stale, but I can brown it for you in a minute.”

He seemed unusually affable Kassandra thought, picking up a bowl and going out to collect the eggs.

She returned a few minutes later, with a bowl full of eggs and a couple of bleeding knuckles.

“Those chickens hate me,” she grumbled, “and why are they all inside?”

“There’s a been a huge eagle or something flying around,” Marcos muttered, taking the bowl from her. “It hasn’t taken any yet, but I’m not made of chickens.”

An interesting concept, Kassandra thought, but said nothing. 

She was wondering when the best time would be to broach the subject of her drachmae. 

She was never going to get the whole lot and that itself was a topic for another day. There would be a massive row and she didn’t need that this morning. 

Just a few coins to buy provisions for this afternoon would be task enough for now. Probably wisest to wait until she’d had breakfast, she decided.

“Here you go,” Markos put a plate down before her. “Gods! Kassandra,” he complained as he leant over her. “You stink like a whorehouse. Have you not washed this morning.”

“Clearly not, as I don’t always smell like this,” Kassandra grumbled around a mouthful of eggs. He just would not let the whole Selene thing die, would he?

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” he frowned, pouring himself a cup of wine and offering the jug to her. 

She declined, it would be wise to recuperate a little before meeting with Nephele. 

She reached across the table for water, reflecting that it was a bit much receiving advice on table manners from a man who had once had a bit of chicken wing in his beard for the best part of a day without noticing.

The eggs were good though, he was a much better cook than she was, she had to give him that.

“Would you bring in the rest of the eggs when you’re done eating?” he asked, wiping his plate with bread and pouring more wine.

“That’s all of them,” Kassandra pushed her chair back with a satisfied sigh. That had hit the spot, she was feeling much better now. “Excellent Markos, thank you.”

“What do you mean all of them?” he frowned a little. Before she could reply he was getting up and going outside. Kassandra heard disgruntled bucking and squawking and he returned looking cross and puzzled.

“That’s the second time this week,” he sat down, draining his cup and pouring another. “Someone is stealing my eggs!”

“Dramatic, Markos,” Kassandra ate the last of her bread and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. “They don’t always lay every day remember, and some of them may be...”

“I don’t need you telling me how to keep chickens,” he replied snappishly. “You who can’t even kill one.”

Oh, they were going there, were they? Kassandra thought and swallowed a sigh. Well if he was going to be like that she may as well bring up the drachmae, his mood was already soured.

Naturally there was a row. Naturally he didn’t have her money. Naturally she was being unreasonable demanding it at a moment’s notice. He was a business man, there were cash flow issues to consider.

She left with nothing in her pocket, but he did tell her that there was a crab fisherman by the name of Basil who owed him a small amount. If she collected that, she could keep it.

It was the best she was going to get she decided, and at least he had fed her well.

With the sound of his grumbling still ringing in her ears she set off. She needed to wash, change, collect a debt and maybe pick some flowers on the way?

As she took a short cut across the yard, past the chicken coop she noticed a scatter of feathers by the wall, and was that a splash of blood? Gods, he’d be livid when he found out that eagle had taken one of his chickens, she smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

She decided to wash and change before debt collecting, it was easier to be imposing when you didn’t smell like a tavern wash-cloth.

She was standing naked in the yard, scrubbing her feet with pumice when she had the definite sensation of being watched. She glanced around sharply. There was no one there, but..

Getting to her feet she looked up, squinting, at the roof. Was there someone up there? She strode over to the wall, braced and took a leap. Someone was going to get a good slapping she decided, for creeping around on Selene’s roof, as much as for their voyeurism.

There was no one there. 

She stood looking around, perplexed. She could have absolutely sworn...she gazed about the roof. Something at the edge caught her eye and she stepped lightly over, crouching to examine it.

A chicken bone. A cooked chicken bone? That was one clever eagle.

“KASSANDRA! Get down off the roof this instant, before someone sees you!” 

Selene barked so sharply and suddenly that Kassandra jumped, missed her footing on the edge of the roof, teetered, lost her balance, scrabbled at the tiles and fell flat on her back in the yard, a tile in each hand.

“Ow!” she said quietly, gazing up guiltily at Selene’s upside down face. She didn’t look pleased actually. 

“I’ll fix the tiles,” she said placatingly.

“Yes, you will,” Selene confirmed. “Why in Hades were you naked on the roof?”

Clio chose this moment to appear at the door with a small glass bottle in her hand.

“Europa sent...” she stopped, gazed at Kassandra lying sprawled naked in the dust with a tile in each hand.

Selene cast a warning glance that would have turned aside an Athenian trireme.

Clio closed her mouth and held up the little bottle.

“Scented oil,” she shook it gently. “Europa sent it down. But...well...you’re all covered in dust now,” she eyed her critically. “Not that it’s not a good look on you, but I’m not sure how impressed the girlfriend is going to be. No one likes a mouthful of grit.”

“Were you just up there?” Kassandra scrabbled to her feet, dusting herself off, rather ineffectually.

“What? On the roof?!” Clio looked at her like she’d lost her mind and Kassandra realised it was an unlikely scenario. “You’re the only one here who goes sneaking about on roofs. And it is a bit creepy Kassandra, I’ve said so before.”

“She’s right, actually” Selene folded her arms gracefully and cast a profoundly disapproving look at Kassandra who was propping up the two tiles by the wall. 

They were thankfully undamaged, it would be a quick fix.

“It’s a little creepy when you do it fully clothed. Stark naked, it’s just unnerving. What were you up to?”

“I think someone was up there.” Kassandra frowned at the roof.

“What?” Clio’s gaze followed hers. “Peeping, you mean?”

It wasn’t unknown, men wanting a free show, but not generally in the middle of the day, and Kassandra’s odd habit of patrolling the roofs at night had pretty much put an end to it.

“I don’t know,” Kassandra frowned, puzzled. “It’s...”

“Well work it out later lover-girl,” Clio slapped her on the ass. “Let’s get you rinsed off and oiled up. There’s a lady waiting.”


	4. Chapter 4

By the time she’d met Basil, suggested that it would be good for his health to settle his debt today, and bought some provisions, it was time to meet Nephele.

She was by the dock, where they had arranged to meet, and she looked just as lovely as she had the previous evening.

Kassandra reined in her enthusiasm until they were a respectable distance away from potential onlookers, then reached out slowly to take Nephele’s hand, giving her ample time to withdraw if she wished. 

She didn’t wish. She locked her fingers with Kassandra’s and moved in close, leaning into her side.

“You smell wonderful, “she glanced up, smiling a little shyly, and Kassandra reminded herself that she had also had a decent amount of wine inside her last night and might be a little more reserved today.

“Thank you,” she smiled. “You still smell wonderful,” she bent and rubbed her nose into Nephele’s hair. “I have been looking forward to seeing you all day.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” Nephele admitted as they rounded the rocks to a more secluded stretch of coastline.

“Really?” Kassandra led them over to the base of a low cliff where the sand was dry and smooth. She spread out the blanket that Selene had called her back to take.

“Don’t make a lady lay in the sand Kassandra, not when she has to get back to work in the afternoon,” she’d explained.

She helped Nephele sit, flopped down next to her and placed the bundle of food by her side.

“Why did you think that?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh, just...”Nephele seemed embarrassed, she began to remove her sandals. As a distraction, Kassandra thought.

“Did you think I was just playing with you?” She tilted her head to catch Nephele’s eye. “That I was teasing you last night?”

Nephele blushed and tried to avoid her gaze.

Damn that was attractive, Kassandra thought and leaned forward further to chase her gaze, smiling reassuringly.

“Well, you were a little..”Nephele frowned, searching for an appropriate word.

“Drunk?” Kassandra supplied. “Yes, I was. And I’m sorry if I said anything inappropriate, or made you think I wasn’t serious about today. And I may also have threatened your cat, a little,” she smiled.

“You wouldn’t be the first,”Nephele laughed. “You know, you’re not like I thought you would be.” 

She leaned back on her elbows and looked up at Kassandra with an appraising expression.

“So, you thought about me then?” she said teasingly. 

Damn but she looked lovely half reclining like that, the fine material of her robe clinging to her breasts. 

“And what were you thinking?”

“Oh, if you were as impressive up close as you looked from a distance?”Nephele smiled. “If you were as strong as you look? What colour your eyes were?”

“And?” Kassandra dropped to one elbow, closing the distance between them.

“Well,”Nephele smiled teasingly. “In that order. Much more so. I bet you are. And...amber.” She gazed steadily into Kassandra’s eyes, before reaching up to stroke her cheek slowly. 

Kassandra could smell beeswax on her fingers, she caught them in her own and pressed them to her lips.

“Is it all right if I kiss you?” she asked gently.

“I would be very disappointed if you didn’t,” Nephele replied, equally softly, reaching an arm about Kassandra’s neck and pulling her down to meet her lips.

She had spent a pleasurable few minutes last night recollecting how enjoyable it had been kissing her, but now Kassandra realised her imagination had fallen short of the mark.

Nephele pressed against her chest, humming with pleasure, opening her mouth to Kassandra’s tongue, tracing the strong lines of her jaw and throat with trembling fingers, laying back onto the blanket, encouraging Kassandra down on top of her.

Kassandra was a little surprised at how heated things were getting. 

Nephele had expressed a desire to take things slowly last night and she’d expected a little reticence, some shy flirtation, hopefully more of the kissing that she’d remembered so fondly. 

Now they were here Nephele seemed very enthusiastic and Kassandra was not a woman to look a gift horse in the mouth. But neither was she a woman to take advantage.

“You know Nephele,” she whispered, nuzzling at her throat. “We do not have to do anything you don’t want to. We only need...”

Nephele laughed softly, and cradled one hand against Kassandra’s cheek.

“You’re full of surprises Kassandra,” she shook her head a little. “But be aware I have to be back at work in an hour.” 

Kassandra laughed, delightedly.

“You’re sure?” she grinned. 

She was not querying the length of Nephele’s meal break, and they both knew it.

“Absolutely,” she smiled up at her, pulling her back down firmly, kissing her, hard.

An hour was pushing it a bit for all the things Kassandra had in mind she thought, but she’d try her best. 

This robe looked very fine first of all, no surprise for a woman who worked at a dressmakers, it would have to come off, definitely.

She was fiddling with the clasps at Nephele’s shoulders when there was a sharp skittering sound above them and moments later a shower of pebbles fell. 

The first couple hit Kassandra soundly on the head, provoking a curse. 

Others followed quickly and she lay over Nephele to protect her, allowing them to bounce off her back and shoulders, mostly harmlessly.

When the cascade seemed to have stopped Kassandra scrabbled to her feet, glaring up at the top of the cliff, a final pebble fell and hit her soundly above the eyebrow.

“That’s it!” she snarled, then stopped herself. “Are you all right?” she bent to look at Nephele.

She nodded, seeming a little shocked, but physically unharmed.

“You’re sure?” Kassandra was well aware that she was wasting time, but she could hardly scamper up a cliff after some lurker if Nephele was hurt, or scared.

“Yes,” She was getting to her feet, Kassandra offered a hand and they both stood looking at the scattering of stones on the blanket.

“Are you?” Nephele asked, looking concerned. “You’re bleeding.” 

Kassandra reached up tentatively, she could feel a small split above her eyebrow, blood was starting to trickle down into her eye, she blinked hard at the sting as her vision blurred. 

Well that was the rock climbing out of the question...and probably the sex as well she thought ruefully. 

She squinted at Nephele with her good eye. Her whole demeanour just confirmed Kassandra’s suspicion, yes, sex was definitely off the table.

When she got her hands on whoever was sneaking around after her she was going to thrash them to within an inch of their life.

The mood effectively ruined, Kassandra walked Nephele back to work and then morosely returned to Selene’s to get patched up in readiness for the evening.

Naturally enough there was a fair amount of good natured teasing about just what Kassandra had been up to that warranted a smack in the face with a rock, most of it from Clio. 

Selene, however, seemed genuinely concerned that someone was lurking about.

To put her mind at rest Kassandra offered to stay the night. She took a bedroll up onto the roof and slept fitfully, one ear constantly open for the sounds of movement, but the night passed peacefully.


	5. Chapter 5

When morning came Kassandra returned home bearing the bundle containing the abandoned meal she had intended to share with Nephele.

She placed it on the table inside and dipped a cup of water from the bucket she’d drawn the previous day. This reminded her that she should clear up the broken cup before she forgot it was there and stepped on it.

It wasn’t there. The floor was clear. 

Kassandra frowned, gazed about the room. Now that was strange. She knew with absolute certainty that she had not cleared that up before she left.

She stood thinking hard for a few minutes, running over the events of the previous day. Shaking her head she made a quick search of the house, top to bottom.

There was nothing valuable missing. Nothing out of place, besides the missing shards of pottery. But someone had clearly been in her house while she was away. 

Markos occasionally came to visit, but that was always to beg for favours, not do housework. 

Selene was the sort of person to tidy up if she saw a mess, but she’d never been to Kassandra’s house apart from visiting when she initially moved in. 

Kassandra sat on the edge of the roof chewing absently at a mouthful of grilled fish, swinging her feet and frowning into the distance. A dark shadow passed over and she looked up.

“Shit!” she nearly fell backwards. That must be the bird Markos was talking about. It was huge. No wonder he was concerned about his chickens, she thought. 

The bird circled lazily overhead before wheeling sharply and flying away. Kassandra watched its shape recede until it was a tiny speck.

That was a hugely impressive bird. But it definitely hadn’t been in her house and tidied up, she thought.

She took another mouthful of fish while she contemplated the mystery. Encountering a large fishbone, she sucked on it for a while, gazing off towards the edge of a nearby copse. 

Someone had been in her house while she was away. They had tidied up. Had they also stolen the bread and cheese the night before? Had they left the cup by the pump?

She picked the bone out of her mouth and rolled it between the tips of her fingers.

In fact, had they been the one spying on her from the roof yesterday? Had they been the lurker at the cliff top? Was it all the same person?

Damn, she thought. That wasn’t a cat in the tree!

Now her suspicions were narrowing to a man. Far more likely that a man would be creeping about the whorehouse roof and spying on lovers on the beach. 

But why steal food from her house? If you were going to steal food, why not lift a fresh loaf from the bakers or some fish from the docks, why Kassandra’s stale bread and dry cheese?

She had an idea though. Getting to her feet she made her way downstairs and examined the leftover food on the table. Selecting an apple and some soft cheese she left the more attractive items on the table. She just needed to confirm her suspicions.

Alternating bites of apple and cheese she set off into the village and made her way to the bakers. A plump middle aged woman named Amantha was arranging the store front.

“Morning Kassandra,” she glanced up briefly.

“I would like the softest, sweetest, stickiest thing you have,” she grinned, fishing in her pocket for the left over drachmae from the previous day.

Amantha sighed heavily.

“Look Kassandra,” she didn’t raise her head from stacking rolls. “It’s not that you aren’t a very attractive woman in a muscular sort of way, but I just don’t...”

“No, no, no,” Kassandra interrupted. “I want something sweet and sticky, preferably with lots of fruit or nuts, or fruit and nuts.”

Amantha looked up at that, wiping her hands on her apron. Without a word she went to the back of the shop and returned holding what did look like a spectacularly sticky pastry, thick syrup was already running sluggishly down her fingers.

“You don’t strike me as a person who eats a lot of sticky buns,” she frowned.

“You’d be surprised,” Kassandra was frowning at the bun. 

There didn’t actually seem to be any innuendo in her statement Amantha realised with some surprise.

“It’s not very big, is it?” she was looking at it disapprovingly.

Amantha said not a word, but retreated to the back of the shop and returned with a second bun, her fingers were very sticky by now. Kassandra was still looking a little unimpressed she thought.

“I’ve got four left, including these two,” she nodded at the dripping pastries in her hand.

“I’ll take them all,”Kassandra nodded. “Can you wrap them up for me, I didn’t bring anything to carry them in.” She heard Amantha’s sigh all the way from the back of the shop.

At Selene’s there was a flurry of excitement when Kassandra arrived bearing pastries.

“Ah ah ah,” she held them up at arms length. “These aren’t for eating. They’re bait.” She added mysteriously.

As she made her way home that night she reflected that the buns would be considerably less soft by now. Never mind, she reasoned, still way better than that stale bread that had tempted the thief earlier.

Once inside she glanced quickly at the table. As she had expected, the food she had left out was gone. In its place was a cup with some water and a sprig of wild flowers. This was a new development.

She found a relatively clean shallow bowl and placed the buns in it. Four was difficult to arrange attractively she told herself. Three would be much more artistic.

Wolfing the extra bun hungrily she gave some thought to her trap. 

She had some fishing line somewhere she recalled. Unless the thief had made off with that too. They had not as it happened. 

With some difficulty she managed to tie a loop of line around the foot of the bowl, it would have been so much easier to do this before she put the buns on it, it occurred to her. 

Cramming the last fragment of sticky dough into her mouth, she unspooled the rest of the line and looped it over to a shelf on the wall, tying the end to an empty olive oil bottle.

Perfect, she thought, standing back to admire her handiwork. Now all she had to do was find an unobtrusive spot and wait.

Wiping her mouth and chin with the back of her hand and licking her sticky fingers clean she looked about for a suitable spot. The actions suddenly reminded her that she hadn’t contacted Nephele all day. 

Damn, she was going to blow this before it had even started she thought ruefully. It was too late to do anything about it now though. 

Retrieving a thin, dark coloured blanket from upstairs, she settled down in the farthest corner of the room, blanket wrapped about her so that only her eyes peeped out. It should be too dark for her to be seen. All that remained was to be still, silent and patient.

Unsurprisingly Kassandra was soundly asleep by the time a small, darkly cloaked figure slid into the room. 

Had she not been snoring, this would not have been a serious problem. As it was the figure stopped, glanced about for the source of the noise and peered intently into the corner.

They stood there for a moment, clearly considering their next move. Noticing the remains of the bucket of water that Kassandra had drawn earlier they tiptoed over to it, lifted it with some apparent difficulty and carefully placed it between Kassandra and the door.

She snored on.

The figure approached the table and halted, gazing at the bowl, then over to Kassandra’s nodding figure, then back to the bowl.

Suddenly they grabbed it, the line pulled taut, the bottle hit the floor with the bright sound of breaking glass, Kassandra startled awake with a loud, undignified snort, shook her head, remembered what was going on, saw the dark figure.

They’d frozen by the table, obviously wondering what had happened. Noticing Kassandra’s movement they unceremoniously grabbed the three buns in one hand, smooshing them into a single, sticky mass, threw the bowl in Kassandra’s direction and darted for the door.

Kassandra scrabbled to her feet, slipped on the corner of the blanket, regained balance, made for the door, tripped over the bucket and sprawled headlong onto the floor, catching the edge of a threadbare, dirty cloak in her hand as she went down.

There was a tug as the thief pulled themselves out of the cloak and high tailed it for the door. Kassandra scrabbled to her feet, slipped in the spilt water, caught her foot in the bucket handle. 

By the time she’d freed herself and raced outside, the thief was nowhere to be seen. She stood, listening intently and heard a panicky scrambling from the yard.

Racing round to the back of the house, she swerved around the pump and vaulted onto the wall. Crouching there, her ragged trophy flapping against her thigh, she watched as a shadowy figure scurried away across the field and disappeared into the trees.

“Got you now, you thieving bastard,” she grinned, hopping down from the wall and returning inside.

She didn’t need to go blundering about in the dark. She knew exactly where they were hiding out now.

Kassandra didn’t sleep much that night, too tense and jittery from the encounter. She’d examined the cloak. 

It was ragged, threadbare, a little greasy from lack of washing, it smelt of stale sweat and smoke. There was blood at one end, quite a lot. Not from a splash, or a seeping wound, it looked more like someone had knelt in something bloody while wearing it. It was small too.


	6. Chapter 6

The following morning Kassandra readied herself to track her quarry. If she was going where she thought she was there was no point in taking her bow, it would be far too cramped to draw. She sheathed a dagger at her waist, the spear on her back.

She was on the point of vaulting the wall when she had a thought and returned to the house, re-emerging with a lantern. She had already lit it and turned it down low. It would be dark where she was going.

Kassandra was absolutely confident that she knew where the thief was camped out, but even had she not been, they had blundered away last night with no attempt to hide their tracks.

A broken, partly uprooted clump of hyssop, a skidding foot-mark through a pile of goat shit, broken branches where they had pushed through the shrubs and bushes at the edge of the copse.

The foot-mark was very small, Kassandra observed, and the broken branches all low to the ground. The small hairs at the back of her neck began to prickle. She was getting a bad feeling about this.

Within a few minutes she was at her destination. 

The mouth of a small tunnel. 

It was taller than it was wide and Kassandra knew that inside the tunnel sloped down for some way before widening out into a reasonably sized chamber. If she remembered correctly from her childhood explorations it was a fairly open chamber, no little nooks and crannies where someone could lurk to jump her.

She wasn’t too worried about that any more though.

The entrance was much more of a challenge now than when she was a girl and for a moment or two she thought she wasn’t going to make it. 

She unsheathed the spear, holding it by her side, exhaled fully and turning sideways squeezed herself through. 

The rough stone grazed her shoulder through the fabric of her tunic. If she’d worn armour as she’d first considered she wouldn’t have fitted.

Once inside it widened, thankfully. Kassandra didn’t openly admit it even to herself, but she wasn’t fond of tightly enclosed spaces and she breathed a sigh as she entered the tunnel itself.

It was smaller than she remembered, obviously, she’d been smaller herself the last time she’d been here. Probably here to shirk one of Markos’s tasks, she imagined. 

She couldn’t stand fully, had to advance in an awkward half crouch that made her hamstrings burn after a while. It was longer than she remembered, which struck her as odd.

Eventually she could feel a subtle change in the air and acoustics, she was almost at the end.

She stopped and listened hard. The lantern was dim in her hand, she didn’t want too much light yet.

Holding her breath she strained her ears for any sound within. Nothing. Somehow she could sense that she was alone. Her quarry was not in their lair.

As she entered the chamber she found she could straighten up a bit more. Turning up the lantern wick she looked about her. It was a reasonably large chamber actually, she thought. 

Someone had been staying here for a while.

The air smelt stale, there was an undercurrent of shit and spoiled meat. This was no place to live for very long. 

Kassandra noticed what looked like a small midden pile at one side of the chamber and made her way over. She observed it as dispassionately as she would the spoor of any animal she was tracking.

An attempt had been made to scrape a small latrine hole, there wasn’t much in there she observed, and someone had tried their best to minimise the smell, there were flowers and bits of crushed evergreen scattered over the waste.

It was just for night time use she decided. Or if the occupant felt that they wanted to stay hidden for a while, perhaps if hunters strayed too near.

Scattered nearby were some animal bones. There were some very obvious chicken bones. Markos’ birds, she imagined. She’d blamed the eagle unfairly. 

She picked up a few of the bigger bones and examined them. The meat hadn’t been cooked properly. Whoever was here was lucky they hadn’t got sick; assuming they hadn’t.

She poked around among the small bone pile and counted the long bones. Unless Markos was secretly breeding four legged chickens there were the remains of two birds here. Someone had been camped out for a while.

Kassandra turned her attention to the other side of the cave. 

The occupant had made an attempt at a bed. Flat evergreen branches had been laid down, leaves scattered on top of them. The general idea was sound, but the execution was poor. There simply wasn’t enough material. 

Kassandra looked at the meagre pile of bedding sadly. She certainly wouldn’t want to spend a night on it. 

There was nothing in the way of covers. Kassandra realised regretfully that she had probably grabbed their one piece of cover last night when she pulled off their cloak.

Why hadn’t they taken a blanket from Kassandra’s house, she sighed. It would have been easy enough to do while they were foraging for scraps.

She squatted down, cross legged on the paltry bed. Gods, it was so prickly they would really have been more comfortable lying on the bare ground. 

Close by was pile of ashes and half burned bits of wood. They had tried to keep a small fire going in here. It probably got cold at night. The chamber was too large for one small body to heat. 

They had been no more successful with the fire than they had with the bed really. It had clearly been relit a number of times. There were small pieces of various different types of stone lying by the ashes. Attempts at finding the best material to strike a spark. 

The more she thought about it, the more impressed Kassandra was that they’d managed to light it at all. It was probably just as well they hadn’t managed to get a roaring blaze going, she looked about, it would have soon made the air unhealthy. Unhealthier, she corrected.

Gods. She swallowed hard, as the light of the lantern flickered on the walls. It must be so dark in here at night. Her throat tightened and she found that she suddenly wanted to cry. 

She clenched her jaw and took a shaky breath. That wouldn’t help anyone right now, she chastised herself. What else was here?

She looked about her. 

There were some wilted flowers, of the same type she’d found left in water on her table. She suddenly remembered that she had meant to pick flowers for Nephele before meeting her at the dock. 

She’d completely forgotten. 

That was a shame. Nephele seemed like the sort of woman who would like to receive flowers. 

Why did she always forget these little things? 

She had the sudden feeling that she’d missed the moment for flowers. That the brief, prematurely halted, interlude on the beach was as far as it was going to go with Nephele.

That was fair enough, Kassandra rolled a wilting blossom between her fingers, catching its scent. It was sweet, and slightly sickly like so many decaying things. 

Nephele seemed like a nice woman, she deserved someone better than Kassandra, someone more reliable than a small time misthios who self sabotaged every relationship within the first couple of weeks.

She sighed and leaned back on her outstretched hands. Her fingers brushed something hidden in the shadows where the cave wall curved into the floor. She took hold of it and sat up. 

It was a small, cloth wrapped bundle, weighing very little. Kassandra sat up and put the small bundle on her knee. It seemed to be wrapped in the same material as the grubby cloak, carefully folded round and tied together at the top. 

The edges of the cloth were ragged and frayed where it had been torn. The thief had been prepared to sacrifice a piece of their only cover in order to keep safe whatever lay inside.

Kassandra opened the knot carefully and unfolded the cloth on her lap. There was a pathetically small collection within.

The largest thing was a wooden carving. 

Kassandra picked it up carefully and turned it around in her hands. It was a figure of an eagle, its wings fully outstretched, the size of her hand and nicely carved. It was smooth and darkened in places as though someone had been stroking it repeatedly with dirty hands.

Kassandra placed it gently beside her on the bedding. 

There seemed to be only one other thing. A piece of cloth, neatly folded into a square. 

She took hold carefully and shook it out. It seemed to be a handkerchief. The material was very fine. It had been an expensive item at one time. A gift from a lover perhaps? 

She moved it closer to her face and sniffed. Even above the stale, foetid air of the cave she could catch the scent of a woman’s perfume. 

Kassandra sniffed and closed her eyes for a moment. The scent wouldn’t last forever, she realised though, quickly refolding it, trying to trap the memory inside the nest of fabric.

That was it, she thought sadly. A small carving and a woman’s handkerchief. 

She should re-wrap them, she shouldn’t really have unwrapped them in the first place, she thought guiltily. She felt as though she had pried into something private, something that wasn’t meant for anyone but the cave’s occupant.

Shaking out the greasy wrapping on her lap, in preparation for wrapping up the bundle, something fell out and slid to the floor. Kassandra reached out and picked it up. It was a piece of papyrus, folded into a small square. She unfolded it cautiously, afraid to damage it.

She recognised it by the smell. Honey.

A few days ago she’d arrived home from Selene’s with a batch of honey cakes that one of the women had made for her. Selene had wrapped them in a large piece of papyrus that she’d had tucked away, so that Kassandra could carry them home without getting too sticky, or eating them all on the way.

It had been a good sheet of papyrus and Kassandra had folded it up and put it away in a drawer. It was sure to come in handy for something later.

She turned up the lantern wick a little and held the sheet low to make out what was on it.

Someone had drawn a picture. With some difficulty clearly, the papyrus was a little greasy in places and the artist had only had charred sticks to work with. 

It was a drawing of a tall, broad shouldered figure, wearing a blocky breast plate and crudely scratched pteruges. They were holding the hand of a smaller figure wearing a simple square tunic. Both figures had simply drawn features, broad smiles. The larger figure had a thick, dark braid hanging forward over its left shoulder.

As she sat gazing at the picture, she heard a small noise from across the chamber and glanced up.

There, in the entrance way was a small, filthy, bedraggled child. Bony arms and legs protruding from a simple tunic. Grimy face all huge terrified eyes and open mouth.

Kassandra might as well have seen a unicorn. Her breath caught in her throat, her mind went blank.

For long seconds woman and child stared at each other across the dimly lit cave. Then the child turned, darted out of sight.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Kassandra scrabbled to her feet, scattering the bedding, skidded through the ashes, made for the tunnel. 

Ducking a second too late she cracked her head against the stone, re-opened the cut above her eye, shook it off, adopted the clumsy half crouch, shuffled awkwardly after the girl. 

For some reason she was sure it was a girl.

“Wait, little one, I don’t mean you any harm,” she called, hearing the scrabbling footfalls moving further and further away. 

Kassandra’s size was too much of a handicap she was never going to catch up.

By the time she emerged squinting into the harsh sun she knew it was too late. The girl had fled.

“FUCK!!” Kassandra roared. Even her fury seemed impotent, muffled by the trees.

She punched the rocks at the entrance way, splitting a knuckle, not even feeling it.

Back inside the cave she surveyed the devastation she had wrought. The child’s bed was destroyed, her belongings scattered, her sad little camp-fire smeared into the dirt.

“Fuck’s sake Kassandra,” she raged at herself. “You big stupid ox. What now?!”

She was always moaning about how small Kephallonia was but it was plenty big enough for a small child to hide. There were nooks and crannies all over the place that would be inaccessible to someone of Kassandra’s size.

“You clumsy idiot,” she sighed. The least she could do was to gather up the child’s meagre belongings. The drawing, the scented cloth, the well loved carving.

She gathered them up, reverently and began to wrap them. Suddenly she stopped and looked down at the little bundle, frowning thoughtfully. She picked out the piece of papyrus and reached forward to fish a charred stick from the ashes.

Flipping the sheet over she wrote as carefully and clearly as possible under the circumstances,

I HAVE YOUR THINGS  
KASSANDRA


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of the day was a blur of activity, she had to race over to Sami and poach some help from the tavern to cover her absence, explain to Selene what was happening, buy supplies and return home.

She had no idea how long it would take. The girl may not even return to the cave today, she may have scared her off altogether. 

Kassandra decided not to pursue that line of thought. She leaned back on the rear legs of her chair and crunched on an apple as she waited.

She’d drunk half of the jug of goat milk that she’d bought, eaten three apples, a barley cake and most of the soft cheese by the time the sun set. There was still no sign of the girl. 

Kassandra got to her feet and stretched, groaning wearily, she needed to go outside for a few minutes, breath some fresh air, take a leak, reflect on her stupidity.

As she returned to the house a few minutes later, the sound of rattling and scrabbling met her from inside. Kassandra crouched a little and sidled inside, stopping in the doorway.

The girl was searching frantically, not caring about the noise she made, opening drawers, emptying shelves, climbing on the chair throwing open cupboard doors.

“Are you looking for these, little one?” Kassandra said softly, unhooking the small bundle from her belt.

The girl spun on her heel, her wide, dark eyes shot to the package, then to Kassandra’s face, then to the shuttered window, then back to the package, finally settling on Kassandra’s face.

“Don’t be afraid, little one,” Kassandra soothed, holding out her hands, the package dangling from her fingers. “I have your things safe here. That is a beautiful eagle. Someone must love you very much to have made that for you.” 

The girl’s eyes were darting about again, repeatedly flitting to the window. Kassandra wasn’t concerned about that. She’d barred the shutters. The girl wasn’t getting out that way.

“Would you like to come get them? “she smiled. “My name is Kassandra, by the way. Do you want to tell me yours?” she waited hopefully. 

There was no response, the girl was looking longingly at the package, shifting slightly from foot to foot.

“All right, that’s fine, little one,” she crooned. “Perhaps I should put your things on the table eh?” 

The girl watched her, inching back as Kassandra approached the table. This moved her away from the doorway, but she had it measured out. 

“There you go, little one,” she put the parcel down on the table, very gently, took a step back.

It all happened suddenly at this point.

The girl darted forward, snatched up the parcel, hugged it to her chest, darted for the door. Kassandra took one huge step sideways and the girl barrelled right into her legs. 

She screamed, a high pitched animal sound and began to punch ineffectually at Kassandra's belly, wriggling frantically.

Kassandra had the whole door blocked now, she dropped to her knees in front of the child and wrapped her gently in her arms, pulling her in tight as she screamed and scratched and punched and bit. She grabbed Kassandra’s braid and pulled hard. She clawed at her face with dirty nails. She kicked at her thighs, kneed her in the belly.

Kassandra was immoveable. The blows were ineffectual, the scratches would heal, she could stay here forever if she had to.

Hungry, cold, tired, thirsty as she was the girl couldn’t maintain this for long. 

She slumped against Kassandra’s chest and began to wail, a terrible animal sound of grief and pain. 

Kassandra shifted to a sitting position, loosened her hold a little, eased the child onto her lap, pressed her close, stroked her filthy hair.

The girl pressed her face against Kassandra’s chest, soaking her tunic with snot and spit and tears. 

And she howled, howled like a dying dog. 

And Kassandra held her, rocked her gently, saying nothing just humming soothingly.

The girl eventually fell asleep in Kassandra’s arms. She carried her upstairs and tried to put her down on her bed, but the child whimpered and clutched at her as she tried to leave, so Kassandra lay down next to her, took her in her arms, rested her chin against the crown of her head, ignoring the terrible smell of her.

It carried on like this for the next two days, Kassandra couldn’t even take a shit without the child clinging on to one hand. They were both smelling worse with every passing hour and they’d run out of food. And the girl still hadn’t said a word.

It was time to make a move she decided, hauling the stinking child into her arms and setting off towards Sami, she needed help.

Along the way Kassandra debated where to go. Markos or Selene? 

She settled on Selene because she had no idea what kind of trauma the child had suffered, didn’t know if Markos’s very male presence would upset her further.

The were more people at Selene’s certainly, and that might be an issue, but Selene did have access to something no one else of Kassandra’s acquaintance did.

A bath tub.


	8. Chapter 8

It was not the work of a moment to arrange for the tub to be filled with warm water, but Selene was good in a crisis. 

Less than an hour after arriving the bath was ready and Clio had been dispatched to the dress makers with instructions to buy new clothing for the child.

Kassandra had looked a little awkward at this development. 

“If you’re worried about Nephele,” Selene said calmly, calling after Clio to buy milk on the way back. “Then don’t. This is more important than some lover’s tiff. At least this way she’ll know why you haven’t been in touch. Now you need to get that child in the bath. Europa, may we have some of your skin cream, do you think? Let me know if you find any lice, Kassandra.”

That was a thought, Kassandra frowned, carrying the child into the small shed-like room at the back of the building where the bathtub was housed. They’d probably all jumped ship onto her by now she thought miserably.

To her surprise she didn’t find any as she undressed the girl. Nor any fleas.

As her clothes came off, Kassandra winced. Her ribs stuck out, the bones of her shoulders jutted, her skin was scaly with filth and her elbows and knees thick with scabs.

When Europa arrived with the soothing cream that Selene had requested she gave an audible hiss at the sight of the child.

“Give me her clothes please, Kassandra, Selene asked me to burn them,” she held them at arms-length. “I’ll bring fresh clothes for you as well, those should be laundered.”

Kassandra managed to undress while the girl clung onto her. She was getting pretty good at doing things one handed, she reflected. Things she’d never imagined that she’d have to do. If she ever lost a limb on the job she was pretty well set.

The girl hissed as Kassandra sank down into the warm water with her held in her arms. She was covered in cuts and scratches, no doubt they stung. 

They sat there quietly for a while, Kassandra giving the little girl a chance to acclimatise. 

“I think we should get washed now eh?” she said at last, reaching for the dipper by the tub. “Let’s wash our hair perhaps, no?”

The water was pretty filthy by the time they’d finished, but at least there was more grime in the tub than on the child Kassandra reflected as she lifted her out. She smelt a lot better too. 

The girl had remained silent through the whole process. 

She stayed silent as Kassandra wrapped her in a towel and began to carefully dry her, trying not to rub too hard at the grazes and scabs.

She was sitting on the towel, on Kassandra’s lap, calmly allowing herself to be anointed with Europa’s expensive skin cream when she leaned in close to Kassandra, placing her mouth close to her cheek.

“What is it, little one?” Kassandra asked softly.

“Phoibe,” the child whispered huskily, voice rusty with disuse. “My name is Phoibe, I think my mater and pater are dead."

It took Kassandra three days to find Phoibe’s parents. Bandits had killed them but time and sun and predators had ruined them.

Selene gave her some sheets, and Markos hitched the donkey to a borrowed cart, clambered up and took the reins.

“Are you sure?” Kassandra asked. “They’re a mess.”

“You can’t do it alone,” he said quietly.

In the end she did have to do it alone. 

Markos was off vomiting in the bushes as Kassandra wrapped the bodies in the sheets as snugly as she could in an attempt to contain the smell.

“I’m sorry, Kassandra,” he emerged, pale faced and wiping his beard as she shouldered the father’s corpse onto the cart beside his wife’s.

“Don’t worry Markos,” she gave him a sad smile. “I can’t kill chickens.”

He helped collect the wood though, sweating and red faced, hauling it onto the beach. The blacksmith came to help and together the three of them built a pyre for Phoibe’s parents as the child sat on Selene’s lap, watching with large, solemn eyes.

It was dark by the time they had finished. A few people from the village had gathered to watch the proceedings, among them Nephele, Kassandra noticed. 

She gave her a brief nod as she made her way down the beach, blazing torch in one hand, Phoibe’s chilly fingers in the other.

“Do you want me to help you, Phoibe?” Kassandra held out the torch. 

At the child’s nod Kassandra knelt beside her, wrapped an arm about her, pulled her close to her side.

“Let’s do it together,” she smiled sadly. “Say goodbye to your mater and pater now, Phoibe. They will be waiting for you when it is your time, little one.”

Phoibe gave a hitching gasp and together they pushed the torch into the base of the pyre. It flared ferociously, the blacksmith must have added some pitch or something. There would be nothing but a pile of ashes come morning.

The heat was fierce and Kassandra got to her feet, taking Phoibe’s hand and urging her back. She seemed reluctant to leave.

“It’s time to let them go, Phoibe,” she bent and scooped the girl up into her arms, feeling her slump against her, gasping and hiccuping, her tears scalding Kassandra’s neck.

“It’s not all right, Phoibe,” she whispered, kissing her hair softly. “It’s not all right at all. I’m so sorry.”

That night Phoibe slept like the dead in Kassandra’s arms.

Kassandra didn’t sleep at all.

Come morning, Phoibe was still sleeping, exhausted by the stress and trauma of the past couple of weeks. 

Kassandra tucked her in and made her way downstairs to prepare breakfast.

She was interrupted by the sound of a cart approaching. It was Markos, with the donkey cart.

He clambered down, rubbing his back wearily and lifted a basket down from the seat. It was full of eggs, amongst other things.

“That child needs feeding up,” he avoided Kassandra’s amused gaze. 

He pushed past her into the kitchen.

“I’ll cook today, but you need to pay attention,” he grumbled, “I can’t be doing it every day. I’m a busy man.”

“Of course Markos,” Kassandra smiled. “What’s in the cart?” she asked looking over to it.

“Oh yes,” he was bustling about, finding plates, grumbling about the parlous state of Kassandra’s kitchen.

“Go get that down would you, I’m busy.”

Kassandra sighed, shook her head and made her way to the cart. Lifting aside the blanket covering the load she saw her childhood bed.

She wiped her eyes quickly with the back of her hand, embarrassed by the sudden flood of emotion. Collecting herself she went inside.

“Thank you Markos,” she said quietly. “I didn’t know you kept it.”

“Go see how that child likes her eggs” he ignored her for a minute or two, and then turned his head, aware of her still standing in the doorway. 

"Yes, yes, don’t go getting all emotional now, I just don’t like to throw things away, drachmae are drachmae, after all.”

“Indeed they are Markos,” she shook her head, “indeed they are.”

Upstairs, Phoibe was stirring.


End file.
